


Binding us Together

by endlesscloudsoftime



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crimson Chains of fate, F/M, M/M, Soulmate AU, as opposed to the red string of fate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 17:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14140704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlesscloudsoftime/pseuds/endlesscloudsoftime
Summary: Yuuri didn't want to be different from the rest of Japan, but apparently fate would rather he was. Why else would he get chains instead of strings as a soul bond?





	Binding us Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya everyone ^.^ So I got this idea from one of my favourite Tumblr artist's URL - crimson-chains! I absolutely love their art so please go check them out at crimson-chains.tumblr.com if you don't know them already. I've also been listening to High School Musical 3's Can I Have This Dance on repeat while writing this, so if you wanted to get a feel of the mood of the fic in general you could listen to that! 
> 
> This fic hasn't been beta'd nor has it been proof-read (I was really eager to get this posted) but it will be soon. If you find something glaringly wrong please do let me know. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edit: I've proof-read it so to those who were put off by the obvious grammar mistakes in the fic they're now corrected! Obviously there may be more that I haven't managed to reel in so if you find those let me know.

Looking down, Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes. He was five, old enough to understand what soul bonds looked like, and even then the only thing that told him that what he was looking at was his soul bond was his own conviction. Bunching the ends of his shirt into a fist, Yuuri lifted his free hand slowly, in awe of the tiny chains that twisted around his pinky as soon as they were near his chest, from which they protruded. Yuuri, enthralled in the novelty of the moment, gave a testing pull to the chain by bending his pinky.

Soul bonds were told to be comforting reassurances to people, an anchor of their wandering spirits. Yuuri had often heard of high school girls exclaiming about how wonderful their bonds felt, their chatter often punctured by pitched giggling, and Yuuri couldn’t help the spark of anticipation for his as he passed them on the street.

So when he felt excruciating pain after his little experiment, Yuuri cried out and collapsed on to the floor more from the shock of the outcome than anything else. He vaguely registered the tell-tale pounding of his mother’s footsteps, and focused on something, anything, that would anchor him without hurting him.

 

The doctor shook his head once again, the same apology strewn across his features, and Yuuri felt slightly nauseous.

Beside him, Hiroko gave his hand a good squeeze, which he returned halfheartedly.

The exhaustion of a never-changing scenario hit him, and Yuuri wanted to just lie down and forget everything about soul bonds and soul mates. He had spent a desperate six years trying to find his soulmate, for surely Yuuri’s other half had to be in Japan, if not Hasetsu. Everyone else’s was. For years Yuuri held a hope that slowly died out every time he clasped his hands at the temple, trying to ignore the jostling of a crowd behind him, a crowd containing individuals that must have met their soulmates already.

Seated on the low stool at the doctor’s office, the last tendrils of hope he had for alleviating some of the pain he had never stopped experiencing from the age of ten vanished, and Yuuri resigned himself to a life’s worth of misery.

 

Hope is a ridiculous thing that never wants to die.

Eyes never moving from the screen before him, Yuuri feels Yuuko beside him tremble with the excitement he felt within. His knuckles throbbed slightly as he dug them further into the bench, but Yuuri’s attention was focused more on the picture of infinitesimal grace, that transcended even through the grainy reception of the channel, than himself. The orchestra rises and crashes, their melodies ringing in Yuuri’s ears, and he can’t help but wonder how the skater before his eyes managed to even make his flowing hair move in time with the music. With every swish of his hip, and flick of his hands, Yuuri found himself drawn in further. The feeling he had abandoned a little less than a year ago glowed once more with a shine brighter than before and lighted both his self and his future in just about five minutes.

So occupied was Yuuri in discovering his idol, that he completely missed the way his chest tugged, the chains’ clink soft compared to the roaring orchestra playing a world away.

 

Somedays, Yuuri highly doubted that his chains were a part of the soul bond. In fact, the older he got, the more convinced he was of it being a symbol of torture. For why else would his chains tug so violently whenever the hope for his future flared, if not for mere torture?

Frustrated, Yuuri almost crumpled the brand new limited edition Viktor Nikiforov poster in his hands. Catching himself just in time, he let the relief soothe the pain in his chest as he reverently unrolled the poster. Taking as much time and care as he could muster, Yuuri stuck the poster up after rearranging his existing posters a bit. The long mental debate he had undergone to buy these was taxing enough, let alone the actual difficulty it took in procuring the two posters that were newly adorning his wall. The money he earned was worth getting them, and his resolve to meet Viktor on the ice one day strengthened the longer he looked.

As did the incessant pain in his chest.

Yuuri really would not put it past his luck to be the only Japanese person cursed with such a ‘bond’. At least it had been bearable when it had first appeared, but ever since the day he saw Viktor’s gold medal skate, the day that his dreams of being an international figure skater took flight, the chains became painful to levels Yuuri was not sure he could withstand. He was thankful that the chains themselves were erratic in nature, coiling and unfurling at the most random of times. At least he had figured a way to skate around the happenstances should they occur mid performance. As always when he was before any platform with Viktor on it, Yuuri found himself unable to look away and soon lost himself into calculating the possibilities of meeting the skater.

At fifteen, it would not have been unreasonable for Yuuri to move up to the senior division. He was eligible to do so after all. However, no matter how much time he spent practicing, there were still some instances when he would feel the pull strongest mid jump, and as a result there have been more failed jumps than not. Certainly more than Yuuri would like. He wanted at least one solid quad in before moving on to seniors, and he wanted to perfect his triple lutz as well before even dreaming of performing in the same stage as his idol. Plus, Christophe Giacometti was moving up this year, and that would increase his chances of getting gold if he skated at his best, if Yuuri’s latest silver at Worlds was any indication.

Another ritual (of sorts) that Yuuri seemed to have when facing Viktor was thinking about the chains in great detail, even going so far as to wildly hoping that the latter was tethered to the other end. The chains always became slightly warm whenever he thought of Viktor, and since he thought of Viktor a lot, the heat was something Yuuri became quickly accustomed to. Despite the seemingly obvious signs that Viktor was likely to be at the other end of the chain, Yuuri felt that most of the reactions the chains elicited were extensions of his own feelings, and they certainly didn’t feel violent enough to warrant a favourable conclusion. There were also the occasional circumstances when the chains would clench suddenly, even when he wasn’t thinking of Viktor. Thus, although Yuuri continued to indulge in fantasies that involved a romantic revelation at sunset at the beach, he never deluded himself to thinking that it was a possibility. Regardless of where his thoughts took him with respect to the strange phenomenon, and no matter how uncertain he felt of it being a link to his soulmate, Yuuri would always return to the instinctive conclusion that he was one of the more unusual cases of soul bonds in Japan.

 

The red links clinked together loudly, and Yuuri ignored the pull in his chest in favour of drowning in the sound of his thumping heart.

He hadn’t meant to turn the corner. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. 

He hadn’t meant to witness it.

Yuuri internally cursed and thanked himself for ignoring his initial destination, for wanting to take a detour. He tried to turn away as quickly as he could, once he regained motor control, but it was in vain for the imprint of the scene he just witnessed was burned in his memory.

With each passing second the beat of his heart grew impossibly louder in his ears. Even if he tried, Yuuri would have been unable to hear the chirps of a sparrow perched on his shoulder at that moment. All that his mind, and in response his body, would fixate on was the soul bonding.

And that too not just any soul bonding.

Yuuri had always harbored a hope amongst hopes, one that he thought would be the more realistic out of all of them. Yuuko had always been his companion, his friend, his relatable senior and somewhere along the way she had developed into Yuuri’s first real crush. A crush that managed to break his one real hope and punch a hole in his chest at the same time.

The phantom cavity Yuuri felt was nothing compared to the tug on his chains, yet he twisted the fabric of his blazer above the area violently. It was one thing to be aware of the diminishing distance between Yuuko and Takeshi, and another to witness the application of an unbreakable seal. As Yuuri replayed the scene in his head, involuntarily, he realized that he had not retained the knowledge of the words they had spoken. But the looks on their faces was something he would never forget, he was sure of it.

Not even reaching the onsen and slamming his bedroom door shut relieved any of the coagulated mess of thoughts in Yuuri’s mind. Vicchan, bless the soul, immediately nuzzled Yuuri’s palm once within reach and only when he had deposited himself near his shoulders did Yuuri’s thoughts calm. He realized soon enough that what he was most upset about wasn’t even the dissolution of his hope. Tears finally threatened to spill over as Yuuri was forced to face a very unpleasant fact about himself. In all the years he had known Yuuko, they had had most things in common. Yuuri’s crush had stemmed from the fact that Yuuko too must know this tugging sensation, she must know the telltale clink of links.

In retrospect, Yuuri figured that naturally, he would be selfish enough to face the fact that there was no one in his vicinity that had chains for bonds with immense self pity. He spent the rest of the night, and the rest of the nights in the year, envying the luscious, almost silken vibrance of the red ribbons his best friends were blessed with.

 

Leaving for Detroit was something that made both Yuuri and his mother anxious, most of their reasons aligning. Their primary reason for their worry, however, was starkly different. Yuuri worried over building a relationship with his new coach, who was a legend of his own right. Hiroko worried over Yuuri’s soul bonds.

The chains were a constant weight on both Yuuri’s chest and mind, and he knew that the only reason his mother was two bites away from breaking the skin of her lips was the unpredictability of the tugs. Yuuri had hoped that fifteen years would have been enough to predict a pattern, but unsurprisingly, they were dashed. University hadn’t been too much of a worry, for family was at least a train ride away. Being overseas however, would be a completely different issue altogether.

Whenever Yuuri felt like his mind was spiraling from the tension in the atmosphere and anxiety within, he would lift his eyes to any one of the several posters of Viktor Nikiforov that graced his walls. He has always marveled at the efficiency one piece of paper has over his demons. A reminder of his goals and aspirations never fails to raise Yuuri up, and he would take the aggressive wrench of the chains anyday over a bare wall.

A soft knock resonated in the quiet of his room. Yuuri hauled himself upright and hummed in reply, and the door opened to a huge pile of fresh laundry, a slight steam still wafting from the topmost fabric. Hiroko’s face popped around the pile, and Yuuri shook himself out of his slight bewilderment to help unload her burdens.

“Fresh laundry for you Yuuri!” Hiroko beamed at her son. Yuuri could feel a slight smile rise in response.

“I could have gotten that myself you know.”

Two light pats to the shoulder dispelled whatever remnant demons plagued his mind. “Why are you in a rush? You’ll soon have to do everything by yourself where you’re going.”

The slight melancholy Yuuri knew the inn had had for a while now seeps into the tail end of the sentence and Yuuri flinched at it. Setting the laundry down on his desk, he turned to face his mother and with all the seriousness he could feel in his heart he said, “I’m sorry.”

The knowing smile on his mother’s face eased his guilt, but only when she said, “Yuuri, as long as your happy I’m happy.”, did it truly wash away.

Yuuri spent some time with his mother in amicable silence, hanging up and folding away clothes. All the while, unnoticed, the chains in his chest clinked away.

 

Sputtering, Yuuri jerked his head away from the lip of the bottle he was holding. Bending in reflex and curled in half, Yuuri allowed himself to cough the water out from his nose before whipping his head up to stare at Phichit.

_“Snakes?!”_

Phichit, whose expression had turned worried at the sudden reaction, suddenly sent a shit-eating grin his way. “Yeah. Ain’t that cool, Yuuri?”

“No!” Yuuri practically screamed, but then quickly clamped his mouth shut. Glancing over his shoulder briefly, Yuuri felt a relief in finding Celestino still engrossed on his laptop, before turning back to Phichit.

“Well I find it cool.”

“But-Phichit- seri-how-wh- _snakes?_ ”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Phichit took a swig at his own bottle. “Why is it so hard to wrap your head around that Yuuri? You already know different cultures have different bonds.”

“I know I know.” Yuuri’s hands automatically flew up in a manner to placate any growing uneasiness Phichit could have. “It’s just, don’t snakes use a coiling method to crush their meal’s bones?”

Phichit grinned maniacally, “Isn’t that the cool bit? I love that we could be at each other’s throats as well – that it’s as much of an adventure as is familiar.”

Yuuri shuddered. He was happy for his unusual chains, at least the pull of the links didn’t crush his bones. Coming to Detroit really opened his eyes to different soul bonds across different cultures, although he had yet to hear about one as strange as Phichit’s. Yuuri supposed Phichit’s would’ve been much more appealing if it wasn’t a poisonous reptile. 

He still smiled at Phichit and said, “I fear for your soulmate. I really do.”

 

Yuuri felt his entire being buzz with excitement as soon as he passed through the sliding doors of the rink’s entrance. Apprehension for the upcoming competition was slowly seeping through his bones, and Yuuri knew that by the middle of his warmup session the nerves would be prominent. At that moment though, he could not find himself to feel anything other than anticipation.

He was _finally_ going to share the ice with none other than Viktor Nikiforov himself.

 Well, technically he would be sharing the ice with Viktor and the four other GPF finalists, but Viktor was easily the contestant he was most excited about. The only contestant he was close to was Christophe Giacometti, and even then Yuuri could only describe their level of friendship on acquaintance at best. Passing the throng of skaters, coaches and media, Yuuri strains to catch a glimpse of the Russian Living Legend, but to no avail. Celestino almost drags Yuuri to a secluded corner in the waiting area, and as he’s settling down Yuuri throws him a grateful look. Even though he wished he knew his fellow skaters better, Yuuri found himself thankful that he could concentrate on his pre-competition preparation without any outside interference. Especially so when he saw Jean-Jacques Leroy practically yell in Michele Crispino’s ear, the latter looking more and more irritated as the seconds rolled by.

As the chains twisted in his chest, Yuuri plugged in his earphones and put his short program music on a loop. The closer the competition was getting, the worse the fluttering in his stomach got. Even his chains were restless today, and that was never a good sign in Yuuri’s opinion. His chest tightened further than he had ever felt before, and every exhale sent them rattling so painfully it made Yuuri’s eyes prickle with unshed tears. He had always had a bad time in Russia when it came to competitions, but his chains had never been so much of an inconvenience even in this country. The pain did nothing to keep Yuuri’s mind from sinking into the murky depths of his vile thoughts, and the only thing that kept him from spiraling out of control was the fact that Viktor would likely be watching him skate. He could not mess up a chance he had worked so hard for.

A squeeze at his shoulder made Yuuri jump in fear, but on whirling his head around he found himself face to face with his coach’s apologetic face. Pulling his earbuds out, Yuuri raised his eyebrows at Celestino, who managed to make his apology at startling him seep into his words as he said, “It’s time for rink practice.”

Yuuri tried his best to ignore the growing discomfort in his chest as he made his way rinkside and laced his skates. Taking his blade guards out proved to be so painful Yuuri visibly cringed, and he could feel Celestino’s worried stare burn into his back as he got on the rink. He was the last contestant on the rink for practice, but even though he knew Viktor was there in the flesh, Yuuri kept his head down and focused on his footwork. He wanted to work on his jumps, but the twinge in his chest was too painful, and all Yuuri could hope for was that by the end of practice it would ease up enough to allow himself to do one good jump.

“Good luck Yuuri Katsuki.”

Yuuri looked up just in time to see Chris pass by, giving him a wink and a cheerful wave. Trying his best to smile, Yuuri sends a wave back, mirroring Chris’s well wishes. Just as he’s about to look back down at his feet, Yuuri catches Viktor Nikiforov’s curious gaze from across the rink, and time slows dramatically.

Yuuri feels frozen in place by piercing blue eyes, that he knew he had underestimated the brilliance of even with his fan like devotion for the man. He almost missed the way the chains in his chest unfurled in relief, but the symphony the clinking of the links created in that moment filled Yuuri with such peace it frightened him. His chest felt so light, as if the burden of the chains had suddenly lifted, as if he had not spent more than a decade bearing with some sort of pain. The feeling made Yuuri feel hope he had not felt in years.

Not that Viktor was his soulmate. The chains have always been as erratic as Yuuri’s emotions, and he was sure the feeling was just a subconscious reaction to being on the same ice, in the flesh, as his biggest idol. But the possibility that maybe just seeing Viktor and being in the same room with him would alleviate his pains gave Yuuri a boost in motivation that he had only felt once before and a trill of hope for his dream sang in his chest. It would be like killing two birds with one stone, fulfilling his lifelong dreams and lightening the burdens in his chest.

The moment melted to reality, and the sudden registration of movement made Yuuri jolt out of his reverie. He grinned as wide as he could at Viktor, who seemed to be frozen himself, and skated off to practice his jumps, knowing that they would be perfect each time now.

Practice ended without any other glitches, and both Yuuri and Celestino sported and exchanged grins when handling the blade guards. Yuuri’s excitement did not fade as the competition started. He let the momentum from practice carry him through the short program, and his scores did nothing to quell the happiness he felt as he squeezed the soft onigiri plushie in his hands. Even talking to the reporters, hounded just as he set a foot into the waiting enclosure, could not put a damper on his mood. His chest had felt lighter than it had ever been in competition and it helped with the soaring feeling erupting in his chest. Although the sound of clinks had always helped calm him down, Yuuri did always think it was slightly mechanical. Standing there, under the bright blinding nights of the rink’s waiting area, the loudest sound Yuuri could hear amidst all the cacophony was a _melodious_ tinkle that he never thought his bond was capable of producing. He could almost taste a position on the podium, and the usual bout of nerves that hit him was much less potent than he had ever felt before. Realistically, he knew that vying for gold would be a stretch, his base component scores were much lower than Viktor’s but his ultimate dream was less than a day away from fulfillment.

Yuuri had probably expended all of his luck just on locking eyes with Viktor, his whole world crashing down from a sound completely unlike the chains’ siren of doom but just as mechanical.

_“I’m sorry Yuuri, but Vicchan..”_

“It’s okay Mari. Thanks for letting me know.”

 

The bond was utterly useless when he needed it the most.

The one time he wanted his chest to feel heavy and mind-numbingly painful was the time where it would feel feathery light and devoid of agony. All Yuuri could do was wring his hands together whenever he could, Vicchan unable to leave his mind. His poor puppy, his one savior in a world full of doubt and hate, lost a battle much more important than the one Yuuri was amidst. It took all of Yuuri’s willpower to go through the rhythmicity of his warmup. He just couldn’t believe that Vicchan didn’t make it, Vicchan who was much stronger than Yuuri ever could be. Vicchan who was there when the bonds hurt the most.

The same bonds that betrayed every emotion his mind was going through.

Yuuri tried to swallow through the clog in his throat, but only ended up drying it in the process. He was due to be on the ice soon, but even if he felt the familiar spike of performance anxiety he barely processed it. He tried to push Vicchan from his mind, just so that he could deliver a performance his puppy would have been proud of.

Much to soon, his name was called out, the previous skater almost done with his routine. Yuuri tried to wipe the slate of his emotions clean and tried to focus on tethering himself to the present as he carefully pulled his skate guards off and handed his jacket to Celestino for safe keeping. The latter had a look of sympathy and worry painted across his features, and although he tried to liven his student up, it was not what Yuuri needed at that moment. Pushing off from the barrier as quickly as he could, Yuuri made his way to the center of the rink. In the seconds between the roars of the crowd and the confident notes of the piano, the treacherous silence of both the bonds and the rink pushed Yuuri to think

_I didn’t even get to take care of Vicchan once when he needed me._

and that’s all that stuck with Yuuri throughout his performance.

 

Yuuri didn’t want to go to the banquet. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He just wanted to go to a place where no one knew him.

He had spectacularly failed to bring to fruition the one chance he had at fulfilling his dreams. He had performed ridiculously in the same competition as his idol. Most importantly, he had failed to redeem himself and pay back his one and only knight in chocolate fur.

Yuuri was a sorry excuse of a human being, and he didn’t want to establish the fact in a room of elite personas.

He had even been yelled at by the Junior GPF champion, in a _bathroom stall_ of all places. Just when Yuuri thought that he couldn’t stoop lower. Not only did he humiliate himself in front of Victor, he had even managed to disgust his rinkmate. What more could Yuuri do?

At least the familiar ache in his chest was back. It was slight, but still very much present. It pulled right at the center, and Yuuri concentrated on that as he cried himself dry. By the time Celestino found him and made him look presentable enough for the banquet, it had already started and almost everyone was in their own congregations. At least Celestino let him be after dragging him to two sponsors, and immediately Yuuri made a beeline for the back of the hall. Grabbing the champagne from the waiter, Yuuri downed his first, then his second, then his sixth, and then he just stopped counting. Feeling a lightness and a heat like never before, Yuuri scrabbled at his neck and fought with his tie. Discomfort taken care of, Yuuri made his way to the floor once again, the object of his search unknown even to him.

 

Snow in April was an anomaly. It was beautiful, mysterious and captivating, but an anomaly nonetheless.

So was Victor Nikiforov and his presence in Yuutopia’s dining hall.

Yuuri couldn’t ignore the way the chains practically strained against his chest, ready to rip it into pieces just to wrap themselves around Victor’s slender slumbering form. His heart didn’t help him either, practically thudding against his ribcage. A violent pain shot through his upper body as Victor nuzzled his face sleepy into the tatami, and Yuuri wasn’t sure if he could take Victor being his coach for a day let alone an entire season.

Usually when the links and his heart conspired with each other to make his life hell, Yuuri relied on his mind to tether him to the ground regardless of how anxiety ridden it would be at the time. Sitting there, kneeling in front of Victor Nikiforov near the entrance of his family inn managed to evaporate all of the rationale he usually counted on. Well and truly a pile of mush in clothes, Yuuri decided to concentrate on making sure that the chains wrapped around his heart stayed there, unseen. He was in no mood to announce his abnormal soul bond to the entirety of Hasetsu just yet.

(Or ever, but Yuuri was well acquainted with his bad luck to know that that was impossible to hope for.)

A light jostle at his hip pulled Yuuri out of his ruminations. A glance at the area got him locking eyes with Makkachin, and Yuuri couldn’t help scrubbing at her forehead or giving her nose light boops of affection. Makkachin reminded him so much of Vicchan (the reverse concept was the whole point years ago) and so Yuuri couldn’t help indulge her with rubs and scratches more than he normally would. It was unreal, the fact that he was cuddling the very inspiration behind Vicchan’s existence. It was even more surreal that her owner was sprawled just a hand’s distance away in the onsen’s standard _jinbei_ of all things. The fact that the Living Legend of figure skating wanted to coach dime-in-a-dozen Yuuri of all people was almost ridiculous.

 But what was truly mind blowing was the undeniable truth that sent shockwaves of pain rippling through his chest with such regularity it both scared and thrilled Yuuri.

Viktor Nikiforov was his soulmate.

Hope exists in a realm within reach.

 

“Yuuri, _what was that transition just now?_ ”

The addressee flinched. He knew he had messed up, and he was hoping that Viktor hadn’t caught on.

Apparently, Viktor didn’t need an event hovering just around the corner to have a razor-sharp focus on practice.

Yuuri hung his head in shame and mumbled his apology. He didn’t want Viktor to think he was taking him for granted just because he had won Onsen on Ice. It was already a blessing that he had managed to grasp the feelings for his short just in time for the event. He didn’t need to squander it by showing Viktor how incompetent he could really be.

So before Viktor could continue, Yuuri gritted his teeth and went through the entire step sequence again. He ran through it four times, with such intense concentration that he jumped when Viktor sighed a long, tired sigh after Yuuri was done.

Yuuri could only watch warily as Viktor’s folded arms tightened across his chest. He was so sure he had gotten the transition smooth again by the last run. Viktor was such a mystery even if he was physically close it always put Yuuri on edge. It didn’t help that he felt obligated to know what his soulmate was feeling, for then it just made Yuuri doubt his certainty even more than his anxiety did. Especially as Viktor never even mentioned his bond let alone show it. Being unable to read Viktor was such a disadvantage, soulmate or not, and Yuuri wanted to know the nuances of Viktor’s expressions. How would he get the chance if he unknowingly messed up and consequently sent Viktor back? Creases appeared between Viktor’s eyebrows, and the chains gave a jingle at the same time as dread washed through Yuuri’s form. How had he messed up? Why did Viktor think he had? He would find out soon.

“Yuuri”, Viktor paused to let out another sigh before continuing, “I appreciate your dedication to skating. I really do. But please, if you’re not getting something right at the end of practice, don’t solve it by practicing more. What if you twisted your feet? Spraining something would set you back even more.”

Chest lightening, Yuuri let out an ‘Ah’ of understanding.

Somehow convinced that Yuuri wasn’t, Viktor carried on. “Trust me, I know exactly what it’s like to practice beyond regular hours. I’ve even ignored Yakov at times when I felt my program needed the extra hours. But never have I ever done so when my body was in danger of breaking.” Chuckling at Yuuri’s incredulous raise of eyebrows, Viktor amended, “Okay I’ve not done that for a while now. You get my point though, I hope. We can go ahead and batter and bruise our feet till they’re ready to throw in the towel, but no further.”

Yuuri nodded. This wasn’t new to him, Celestino had said the same things in similar words. But there was something about Viktor’s way of saying it, and he didn’t know if it was because he had experienced this just this year, or if it was because of him being his idol, or if it was due to an apparent natural tendency to give a weightage to his words. All he knew was that Viktor didn’t want him to be reckless beyond belief, and Yuuri had just learnt how Viktor looked when he thought that way. He would be on the lookout for it in the future.

Viktor brought his folded arms down to the boards and leaned on them. “By the way, why were you having so much trouble with it earlier? You seemed to have had it during Onsen on Ice, what made you lose it, so to speak?”

Here was Yuuri’s chance to explain himself. To show Viktor that he hadn’t stupidly forgotten what he had learnt once external pressures were relieved. To bring to his notice that something really important to Yuuri had flickered through his mind as he was performing it, that he wasn’t going to take practice easy just because it was practice.

How could he convey any of that, though, without revealing that Yuuri had hoped to have him as a soulmate. That Yuuri practically thought of him as his soulmate, convinced by a change of pattern in the tugging and clinking of the links in his chest. How could he tell Viktor that the violent pull he had felt while performing, coupled with the critical approval in Viktor’s sky blue irises had made Yuuri want to tell him about the bond in that moment. That Yuuri was actually considering taking the leap based on instinct alone. That that alone made Yuuri more hopeful than years of analyses could ever incite.

He couldn’t, and so Yuuri shook his head slowly and sorrowfully. Viktor turned away then, calling it a night and expressing his will to soak in the onsen. Yuuri couldn’t help the smile that rose on hearing ‘Can’t wait to go home and sink into the onsen’, his mind ringing with the same delight apparent in his coach’s voice. Even so, he noticed the slight twist in Viktor’s expression when he thought Yuuri wasn’t looking, an action oddly timed with the chains’ constriction of his heart.

 

For once, the roller coaster of emotions Yuuri had to endure in one day was not attributed to the twisting and loosening of his personal noose nestled in his chest. Yuuri wanted to think through it all with a neutral mindset, but the happiness coursing through his veins made it impossible to do so.

The reason for his fluctuating emotional journey was currently running across the room, back and forth, fretting like a mother hen as he gathered Yuuri’s nightclothes in one hand while carrying multicoloured travel bottles in another. The bathroom door was wide open, and the steam from within escaped to cloud their room, managing to catch on Yuuri’s glasses along the way. Said individual was too deep within the realm of exhaustion to wipe the condensation away, but luckily he didn’t need to. Viktor plucked his glasses off, and linked his arm through one of Yuuri’s to lift him up and escort him to the bathroom.

Not for the first time, Yuuri marveled at how loose and how _soft_ the bond felt when they were in contact. It had taken some getting used to, but after their eye opening conversation at the beach, Yuuri had become more receptive to Viktor. Viktor, too, had become more open from that point on. Touches on his person increased in frequency by the day, and Yuuri slowly warmed up to hugs of all natures as well. Familiarity increased exponentially and along with it did the intensity of the current running in Yuuri’s chest. Realising this made Yuuri more and more confident each day, and on days when he couldn’t sequester that confidence he was able to gather enough energy to silence his negative thoughts. Viktor’s presence made him relax, filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain and loosened every knot that ever dampened his happiness.

Which was why when Viktor had said what he had in the car park, just a few hours earlier, Yuuri’s entire being had seized in terror of the return of the excruciating ache without Viktor to alleviate it. The prospect of loosing Viktor had spurred the chains into coiling so tightly around his chest Yuuri was sure that they would break his heart into irreparable pieces. Like as if hurting Yuuri would be able to keep Viktor by his side. Yuuri was glad that he had conveyed his desires for Viktor to never leave adequately, and he was ecstatic that Viktor had replied similarly.

The rustle of fabric brought Yuuri out of his reverie. He watched Viktor put down his night clothes on the platform and check the tub brimming with steaming water from his position by the door. Once Viktor was content with his inspection, he turned to Yuuri and smiled. “I figured you’d want a hot bath no matter how sleep deprived you feel. It’ll help you loosen your muscles too, god knows they need it after that phenomenal skate.”

Yuuri could feel the bond unravelling and floating at the care laden in Viktor’s tone. The combination of everything that had transpired, both in the day and across the months, overwhelmed him suddenly. Unable to contain anything anymore, he surrendered to his emotions. Walking up to Viktor, Yuuri wrapped him in a tight hug, trying to make him absorb those precious feelings overflowing from within. Moments later, his crimson chains wrapped themselves around the both of them, tying them in place. Yuuri relished the gasp that Viktor gave when he realized, and when a second set of the same chains did the same Yuuri couldn’t help letting out the garbled laugh that he did. It was one thing to be sure about his fate, but it was another to have his notions confirmed. Viktor softly giggled into Yuuri’s hair, which Yuuri returned into his shoulder.

The harmonious clinking of both their bonds caught their attention once the initial phase of giddiness cleared from their minds. Blinking, Yuuri could only stare with growing fascination as the chains twisted, merged and formed one loop around them. Viktor’s bond was a shade darker than Yuuri’s, and the merging of their bonds had left an intricate pattern with alternate shading on the links that had Yuuri running his hand on it reverently. While stroking the darker shade of red nearest to his arm, Yuuri felt his face being cupped and let his eyes lift to meet Viktor’s. He noticed the mirth and affection running deep within them before leaning forward in tandem with his other half, lips meeting in the middle, and hearts finally blooming before each other.

Although his head throbbed from lack of rest, and his eyes threatened to remain shut, Yuuri let the steam of the bath aid Viktor’s warm currents of affection in giving a melody to the song of hope that Yuuri has been praying to hear ever since his eyes had caught the wisp of silver hair on a grainy television screen.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm most likely (like 90% certainly) going to continue this because I have a lot planned out for this, especially a lot of fluff. I did not expect the fic to take on the slightly subdued tone it has, and I want there to be a lot of fluff for these two here because it's them and I live for Viktuuri fluff. Also my inspiration for the fic comes from crimson-chains who is an amazing person filled with positivity and kindness so I need to get this up to that level (or somewhere near it). That being said, I will keep the fic as complete because a) I feel like I've stopped at a point where it can be deemed so and b) because I'm unsure of when I'll be able to get the next bit out. 
> 
> I definitely have plans for this but if you would like to see certain things within this universe, or in general (if you like my writing style) you can always send me an ask either on here or on my Tumblr: endlesscloudsoftime.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you for reading this! Hope you enjoyed and please please do go check crimson-chains out if you haven't because they're really amazing!


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